


First names

by cezy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: CAPTAIN SQUAD, M/M, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6886147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cezy/pseuds/cezy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Call me by my first name."</p><p>"No."</p><p>The reply comes immediate, without hesitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First names

"Call me by my first name."  
  
"No."  
  
The reply comes immediate, without hesitation.  
  
Calling Ushijima by his first name is impossible. Although hidden, Oikawa's respect for the wing spiker is immense and the familiarity and ease that using his given name implies is uncomfortable. That silly nickname he's given him all these years ago - _Ushiwaka-_  is the most informality that Oikawa will allow between the two of them.  
  
"Call me by my first name."  
  
He should have known better that Ushijima wouldn't back down. He is unrelenting in everything he sets his mind on. Oikawa should have expected it, after all, he's been asked year by year, match by match, to join his side at Shiratorizawa, no matter how many violent '  _no_ 's he received in response every. single. time.  
  
"I said no. Are you deaf?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
How annoying  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
"Oikawa, we've been on the same team for three years now. You call Tetsurou and Koutarou just by that- by their first names."  
  
Shut up.  
  
"So it's only normal for me to want the same from you."  
  
It's not that easy, idiot.  
  
"Well, sucks on you then. I won't call you by your first name, **Ushijima**." The name is emphasised to express to the other just where they stand currently, as far as names are concerned. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to return the mop to the storage room."  
  
And just as he's turning around to coldly leave, he feels a strong hold on his arm. He grits his teeth and tries to pull himself free, but Ushijima is strong. So strong. Oikawa won't be surprised if he'll find bruises later.  
  
"Let go, you bastard, I'm bus-"  
  
He sees a spark of golden and suddenly he finds himself turned around, big arms now gripping his wrists. He's staring in aureate oculars, empty despite the vibrance in them, and he feels his mouth going dry.   
  
Ushijima always does this. He knows just how to trap Oikawa, to persuade him into giving to him. It even worked a few times, after a few matches that ended in angry (on Oikawa's part) kisses in the lockers, empty while their teammates showered, that always left him messed up and craving more.

"Call be my first name. Please."  
  
The use of that last word makes Oikawa freeze, hazel eyes widening. Ushijima is blunt, straightforward with what he wants, and Oikawa doesn't necessarily mind it for his requests are always clear. He doesn't ask 'Just a bit higher, please!' like Bokuto when he sets. He says 'Higher' and that's it. He doesn't discuss possible strategies with him like Sawamura. He simply points at Oikawa's scheme and says 'We will do this'. He doesn't chat about what he did in the weekend like Kuroo. He doesn't actually say anything about his activities outside of practice .  
  
So to have Ushijima so clearly request takes Oikawa by surprise, helps him understand the seriousity in the spiker's words. He's always serious, of course, but few times does he openly use the word ' _please_ '.  
  
Oikawa's walls are crumbling.  
  
He bows his head, bites his lip and clenches his fists.  
  
"Stop. Please stop." His words come out trembling. "To ask such a thing from me... I know you're dense, but I can't just do that."  
  
He feels Ushijima's hold on his wrists easing lightly. He can probably tell that Oikawa is close to giving in.  
  
"I address the others by their first names because they're my friends. But with you... We've known eachother for nine years, played together for three, yet if it's not for me initiating it, you don't even call me on my phone. It's always _me_ that texts you. It's always **me** that invites you to the cinema. It's always anyone but you."  
  
His head now raises, composure hardened back by the irritation he feels.  
  
"And you have the guts to ask me to call you by your _first_ name? You have the guts to... to suggest that we're something **more** than _just teammates_?"  
  
Kuroo texts him during the day. Bokuto always hugs him in the morning. Even Sawamura has asked Oikawa for lunch so many times that it's now a daily habit for them to eat together. But Ushijima... Ushijima doesn't do any of these things. The most he remembers the spiker doing is asking if he wants to go the match of two rivalling universities.  
  
Silence dominates the vast gym. Oikawa can't see any emotion in Ushiwaka's eyes, but there's a vibrance in them that's stronger than before. He feels his hands being suddenly released and they hover in the air for a few seconds before finally dropping at his sides.  
  
"I understand."  
  
Does he really? Oikawa raises a doubtful eyebrow. Ushijima is turning his back at him and Oikawa can see the slight crumple in his shirt, as though his shoulders have tensed.  
  
"I won't bother you with it anymore then. I apologise. I didn't know that's where we currently stand."  
  
Does he... feel guilt at hearing those words? Perhaps Ushijima had truly considered them to be something more than teammates, friends even. Oikawa's gaze moves to his shoes, suddenly so interested in the messy way he tied his shoelaces. But he remains quiet.  
  
"I'll be going then." Ushijima announces and Oikawa's head raises, his mouth opens as though to say something, but it lasts only a moment before whatever name might have slipped from his lips. Instead he utters a simple ' _okay_ ' and lifts the fallen mop from the floor to resume to his earlier task. Ushijima doesn't look back as he leaves Oikawa in his solitude and silence in the gym that is getting cold now that there's no heated and sweaty practice going on.  
  
Days pass and Ushijima doesn't speak to him more than the necessary. 'Higher', 'Stronger', 'Faster'. He stops telling him 'Good toss' or 'Congratulations on the hard work today'.  
  
Sawamura observes it, having always been the more perceptive one of the former captains. He doesn't mention it though, just pats Oikawa's shoulder assuringly after the few times Ushijima addresses him so simply, empty.  
  
He still accepts Oikawa's invitations to the cinema and still answers his calls when Oikawa feels like rambling about whatever irritating setter that day's rivalling team had. But his replies are simple, no more than what two strangers would exchange. It leaves Oikawa with a strange feeling in his gut.  
  
It's not like he cares whether Ushijima speaks to him or not as long as it doesn't hindrance their gameplay. Yet... as little as the communication existed between them in all these three years, he misses that presence of Ushijima, that comfortable silence they could stay in. But now, that silence is pressing, as though Ushijima was only then in body, but not in mind.  
  
Oikawa hates it.  
  
They're in an important match against Tokyo's second best university team when it finally happens. The rivalling team is strong, each team having won a set and they were at match point.  
  
As the ball comes falling towards him, Oikawa glances around and analyses his possibilities. Bokuto has been too slow this time, he would miss the toss were it set to him. Kuroo and Sawamura are in the back rotation, too far for a proper spike. And Ushijima... he's right by the net, but is not preparing himself for a jump. He is their _only_ chance to win the match.  
  
"Wakatoshi!!"  
  
The name rings off his lips before he realises and it seems both of them are shocked by it. But Ushijima is incredibly fast at collecting himself and as slender hands push the ball back in the air, Ushijima's knees bend and he jumps high, so high, hitting the ball with the fierceness of an eagle, the elegancy of a swan.  
  
Everything seems to stop in time. Everyone's mouths are agape, eyes wide and it isn't until the referee's whistle rings in his ears that Oikawa realises they've won.  
  
Suddenly he's pulled into a suffocating group embrace, Bokuto's loud cheers thumping in his ears as Kuroo's laughter seems to intoxicate everyone. The shock at what he had just called Ushijima is still there, but it gets shaken off slowly until he's cheering from the top of his lungs, embracing back his dear teammates. Catching a glance at Ushijima's face, currently trapped under the white haired ace's arm, he finds a trace of a rare smile on his lips too.  
  
Ushijima.  
  
Ushiwaka.  
  
_Wakatoshi._

Oh, how relieved Oikawa feels. As though a rock has been lifted off his soul.  
  
In the lockers, the team is gathering their stuff and zipping up their gym bags. Running a hand through his still wet hair from the earlier shower he took, Oikawa is glad to be victorious in yet another match, the win still fresh in his mind and the adrenaline still making his heart beat quickly. Or could it be the use of a certain name which he's sworn to never use that sets his organ thumping so hard?

Bokuto's slinging his bag over his shoulder when he raises his hand to catch the setter's attention. "Oi, Tooru! We're going downtown to eat! Are you com. . ." The wing spiker's voice trails off as he feels a tug on his arm; it's Kuroo, giving him a nod towards Ushijima who was approaching the shorter brunet with that sort of determined look they've grown to recognise as the look before he is about to say something important. It seems to be only towards Oikawa though, and the two best friends find themselves each raising a curious eyebrow as they not so subtly spy on the interaction. It's going to be interesting to see Oikawa and Ushijima talk after almost two weeks of not speaking outside of the court.

"Oikawa, would you like to join me for dinner? I've found this traditional restaurant not too far from here to be rather exceptional."

Hazel eyes seem shocked at the invitation -which is clearly only directed at him- and he even stops in his task of putting his toiletries bag in the locker. But then Oikawa's lips curl into a smile, and it's warm and genuine and it's everything his teammates want to see more often but don't get to witness because of the setter's usual artificial or mocking attitude. A quiet laugh follows then and Oikawa throws his bag over his shoulder and buries his hands in his jacket's pockets.

"Call me  _Tooru_ , Wakatoshi."

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written a fic in 6 years i cant believe im actually posting this


End file.
